Three
by symphonyflute
Summary: (Set after Season 1, Chapter 11.) Jane had told Michael to stop waiting, that they would never be together. But when he's sick, can she overcome her natural caring nature to him?
1. Chapter 1

Takes place a couple of days after Michael and Jane are released from the hospital. Pretending Nadine hadn't gotten Michael suspended quite yet, since I wanted him at the Marbella a little.

"Knock knock."

Jane Villanueva poked her head into the massive penthouse suite of the Marbella Hotel without waiting for an answer to her called-out greeting. They were past the point of actually knocking and having to receive permission to enter, and Rafael had unlocked the door when she texted that she was on her way. Still, so early into their relationship, Jane felt better announcing her presence as opposed to simply slipping in.

Rafael looked up from the stack of papers he was shuffling through at his desk. "Hey. How are you feeling? Is our apple okay?"

"Good, good. Everything's good. And it's an avocado now, thank you very much." Her hand rested lightly on her growing belly. "And it's a hungry avocado. I'm not due to work for another two hours. What do you say to lunch down in the dining room?"

"I say, let's do it." Rafael glanced back at his papers. "In five minutes. I'm just looking over some numbers my father dropped off this morning."

Jane sauntered over and perched herself on the arm of his chair. "Anything interesting?"

With a sight shake of his head and sigh, both imperceptible to anyone who wasn't sitting less than a foot away with their arm resting on his shoulder. "Insurance stuff from the hurricane."

Jane grimaced, thinking of her grandmother, unconscious in the hospital, of her frantic search for the rosary, of her friends accusing her of having changed since she started dating Rafael... And the whole mess involving her grandmother potentially being deported back to Venezuela. Not to mention being stuck in an elevator with her ex-fiancé. "The hurricane was interesting enough to make up for some boring paperwork."

Rafael leaned back and kissed Jane lightly on the neck. "I was so proud of you that night."

Jane leaned in a little to his kiss, expecting it to deepen, maybe make its way up to her mouth. Her lips parted slightly in preparation, but instead of pressing on, Rafael pulled away.

"Hmm?" She hummed, hoping to encourage him back to his previous intent.

"You smell different." He inhaled deeply. "I like it. Like flowers."

She nodded. "Rogelio bought me a new perfume. Rose. You should have heard him trying to pronounce the French name." He'd spent much more time bragging about how expensive it was than butchering French, but it was definitely a couple steps down from a new car so she had been content to let that slide.

"Very sexy," Rafael murmured in an obviously exaggerated French accent, nuzzling his nose against the delicate skin.

"I'm sure that was what he was going for when he bought it," Jane said sarcastically. "What can I do to make my unmarried, pregnant, virginal daughter sexier?"

"Well it worked." Rafael turned his head to meet Jane's expectant lips briefly before leaning against the non-girlfriend inhabited arm rest of his chair.

"Are you okay?"

Rafael nodded. "Fine. I just thought I was going to sneeze for a second. I didn't want to do it on you."

Jane smiled. "Appreciated. Now come back?"

"Your wish? My command." Kissing was reestablished. For all of ten seconds. Then Rafael pulled back away and held a hand up between them.

"What now?"Jane asked in a mixture of groaning and amusement.

"Sneeze," Rafael replied, though Jane couldn't be sure if he was answering her or just announcing it.

"Sneeze?"

Rafael nodded once, twice, then grabbed a tissue from the box on his desk and directed a loud " _HuhChoo"_ into the white paper.

Jane cocked her head. "Bless you. One"

Rafael rubbed his nose through the tissue, then threw it in the trash. "One what?"

"Sneeze. It's this thing I used to do with my mom, but," Jane waved her hand dismissively, "it's nothing"

"Tell me." Rafael leaned back and folded his hands together, looking at his girlfriend expectantly.

"Well Mom was never good at admitting when she was sick, and I was maybe a teensy bit of a worrier." At that, Rafael snorted. "Hush. So anyway, we came up with a rule that until she sneezed three times, I wasn't allowed to worry or comment on her health. When she did though, I could worry all I wanted. Then I grew up and I wasn't great at admitting when I was sick either, so she turned the tables on me." Jane wasn't sure if she should add this last part, but she threw it in quickly. "And she taught it to Michael after I caught a cold when we'd first started dating."

Rafael nodded. "Sound enough practice. You do worry too much though. Sometimes sneezing is just sneezing."

"Once, sure, but at three I'm allowed to worry."

"I wasn't involved in the development of this rule, so I don't know how fair that is. Can I negotiate for more sneezes? Maybe 5?"

"What? No, absolutely not. You get three. Unless you admit to feeling unwell before you get to three, like an adult, but you can always exercise the three sneeze rule to keep me off your back."

"Maybe I like you on my back." Rafael pulled her back in, but they hadn't been kissing for more than ten seconds, before he launched himself out of the chair, leaving Jane to scramble to find her balance.

" _HushhSchoo"_

"Bless you! Are you sure you're okay?"

Rafael waved a finger at her. "Hey. I thought I got three. You promised."

"I know, I've just never heard you sneeze before."

Concern was starting to creep up into her voice, though Rafael knew it wasn't an uncommon feature there. Still, "Honestly? I think it's your perfume."

Her hand flew up to her neck, as if she could block the offending scent. "Really?"

Rafael nodded. "I felt fine before you got here. I feel fine over here too. Sharing a chair just made me a little itchy."

"I'll be glad if you aren't sick." Rafael beckoned her over with a finger. "Are you sure? I don't want to make you feel worse."

"I just want to see if that's what it is."

So Jane slowly crossed the short space between them, holding her arm out when they were within a foot of one another. Rafael took hold of her wrist and leaned into it, inhaling the sweet scent.

Within seconds, Jane could see his nostrils flair. But when he took a gasping breath, presumably to sneeze Jane reached forward and pinched his nose shut.

Surprised Rafael opened his eyes in time to see her rapidly backing away from him. "What was that?"

"You don't want me to worry, remember? I'm keeping you from getting to three."

Rafael smiled. "It really does smell pretty."

"Well, as pretty as my boyfriend-repellant is, I'm going to go wash it off so we can enjoy a nice lunch where you can actually smell and taste the food." And with that, Rafael was staring at Jane's back as she headed to the en-suite bathroom.

No, he didn't like it when she worried. But, he mused, if she was going to worry about someone, he was certainly glad it was him.


	2. Chapter 2

By the time Jane had finished scrubbing at her neck with a soapy towel until she felt confident she wouldn't make Rafael uncomfortable and the pair had been able to make their way downstairs, two new obstacles had appeared to stand in the way of the romantic lunch Jane had been hoping for. One, the lunch rush had begun and there were no open tables and two, they had visitors.

As Jane was scouring the room on her tip-toes, looking in vain for an open table or one of her friends who could give her the scoop on any parties leaving, Rafael heard his name called by a familiar, and unwanted, female voice. He put his hand on Jane's arm to get her attention. When he had it, he nodded to the couch where a pair of detectives sat waiting for them.

Sighing, he took her hand and led her over. "Michael. Nadine. What is it now?"

Michael nodded to the couch opposite them. "Sit." They sat. Jane made a point to sit on the opposite side of the couch, just in case she still had any remnants of perfume on. That put her right across from Michael, though neither looked at the other.

Rafael leaned forward and raised his eyebrows. "Well?"

"What were you doing Tuesday night?"

"I was working. Why?"

"With?"

"What?"

"Who were you working _with_? It's not a hard question. Just give me a damn answer."

Jane was taken aback by Michael's aggressive tone. In all the years she had known him, he had never sounded so short or cruel.

HIs partner apparently agreed, because she put a hand on his shoulder and firmly pulled him back out of his leaning position. "Michael, it's okay. He didn't understand the question, it's not a big deal."

He opened his mouth to answer, but Nadine out a hand up. "My turn." She stared at Michael until he slumped back against the couch, arms crossed and a scowl on his face. Turning back to Rafael, she held out a photo. "We need to know who this man is."

Rafael took the photo, internally wincing when he saw what it was. It was a picture of him. Him meeting the shady subcontractor.

He handed it back. "His name is Jay."

"Last name?"

Rafael shook his head. "I don't know. Someone at the hotels contracting agency told me where I could find him. He's, ah, he's the man who added the underground rooms."

Jane's head swiveled to face him so fast she was afraid of giving herself whiplash. "You met the guy who built plastic surgery suites n your hotel for a drug dealer and murderer? Are you insane? You could have been seriously hurt!"

Rafael rubbed her arm. "Don't worry, I was completely safe. He wasn't cooperative, but he wasn't violent either."

Michael snorted. "You and I had very different experiences with the guy."

At this, Jane took a minute to study his face. She had avoided looking at him, didn't say hello, hadn't spoken to him at all since that night at the hospital. But now, she noticed that his foul mood may have more to it than a dislike of Rafael.

The bruising around his eye was in the beginning stages of turning yellow, giving his entire face a sickly gray cast. There were dark shadows under his eyes as if he hadn't been sleeping, and tight lines around his mouth indicating that he had been pursing his lips, something Jane knew he did when he had a headache.

Rafael was studying him too. He wasn't feeling the surge of sympathy Jane was though. "Why were you following me?"

Michael didn't answer just stared at him with an angry, hollow-eyed glare. "Well!?"

"I'm just doing my job, tying to find Sin Rostro. The same thing I've been doing for months."

"And you still think it's me? Or do you think that if you keep acting like it's me, Jane will eventually believe you and leave me? You still think you can win her back?"

Michael sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Believe me, Jane has nothing to do with this. We have...an understanding."

An understanding? That was putting it mildly, after Jane told him to stop waiting for her, that they would never be together again. At least, she thought, that meant he did understand what she was saying. Was that the reason for his anger?

Nadine glanced at her partner, then back at Rafael. "We have reason to believe that this Jay may be working with a plastic surgeon named Jorge Moncada. Is that name familiar to you?" When Rafael shook his head, Nadine pressed "think hard, this is very important . Have you ever heard your father mention him?"

"My father?" Rafael was taken aback. He and Rose had discussed at length the fact that Enrico might be the infamous criminal, but he hadn't realized the police were on the same track. He had assumed they were too busy chasing dead ends, namely him being Sin Rostro.

Nadine answered his inquiry, and she and Rafael began to discuss...something. Jane was tuning them out, her attention grabbed by a sudden movement in her periphery.

She snapped her head over to Michael when he abruptly turned his back to Nadine and tried to shield his face from view with a raised shoulder, but Jane had too good a view to miss him gasp and pinch his nose shut, and bob forward. Nadine glanced at him briefly, before turning back to Rafael and continuing to talk. Could she bless him? Was that still appropriate?

Nadine was asking Michael a question, but he wasn't listening to her until she admonished him with a "Michael!"

HIs head popped back up with a start. "Sorry, what?"

"I asked if you brought the print out of cell phone records."

"Oh yeah, hold on..." Michael hoisted his satchel onto his back and started ruffling through it. Jane could see wrinkled papers loose in the bag, amidst the folders that usually held them. The sight of her almost anally organized ex-fiancée's disheveled work caused her concern to spike up another knot.

He rubbed his hand across his eyes tiredly, and admitted to Nadine in a soft voice, "I can't focus on the titles. Can you find it?"

She could. In less than fifteen seconds. As she handed it to him, Michael blushed under the bruise and pallor, giving his face a feverish flush. "Thanks," he mumbled. He flipped the stapled packet to the third page and held it out to Rafael. "Look at lines six through nine. Do any of..."

He trailed off, eyes unfocused and fingers pinching away a headache at the bridge of his nose. He waited a second, then shook his head. "Sorry. Ahem. Do any of these numbers look...huhh..."

Nadine took the packet out of his hand just in time for him to snap forward with more of the forcibly stifled sneezes she had just witnessed moments ago. This time, though, he clearly had less control and she could hear the harsh sounds. " _H'Ktsh! Ktssh!Ktssh!"_

He blinked away a couple tears and looked up to see three pairs of eyes on him. He would have groaned at the unwanted attention, maybe said something snarky and humorous enough to distract everyone, but his breath was getting away from him again. Watching closely, Jane could actually see his nose twitch once, twice, before he rubbed at it harshly with a fist. "Excuse me," he muttered.

Rafael whistled. "Damn, Jane. What the hell is in that perfume?"

"I washed it off!" She defended herself. "You aren't sneezing anymore."

"You're closer to Michael. And maybe he's more sensitive." Rafael said the last word in a mocking voice, which Michael was too busy staving off another attack to notice. "Cordero? You gonna live?"

"Hmm?" He was blinking rapidly as he looked up at Rafael who, in an unusual show of kindness to the man he considered his new nemesis (Lachlan being his old nemesis, of course) was holding out a handkerchief.

"I think you're having an allergic reaction to Jane's perfume. I did too actually. Potent stuff." He gestured with his head to the handkerchief, and Michael had the wherewithal to reach out and take it.

"Are you," he swallowed audibly and cleared his throat, "sure I can..."

"Yeah, all yours."

Michael nodded his thanks before raising the cloth to his face to cover the next bout he had been trying to prevent. " _HKttsh! Ktshh! Htch! Htsch! Tssch! Tschh! Hehh.."_

Jane could see his knuckles turning white with the tightness that he was pinching his nose, and felt a brief urge to go pull his hand away from his face, keep him from hurting himself. She had seen him sneeze only a handful of times in their relationship, and couldn't remember if he was normally a stifler. She knew he had never gone to this much trouble before.

For a moment, it seemed Michael had regained control over his rebelling body. But when he lowered the handkerchief, giving Jane a view of his reddening nostrils, she saw them begin to flare again. "Crap," he muttered, walking away from the group and toward the door.

Nadine sighed as the sound of her partner's continued nasal misery reached their ears. "I should probably get him back to the station. Hold on to the call sheet, okay? If you happen to remember any of them or see any of them anywhere, please give us a call."

Rafael nodded, folding the packet and slipping it into the inside pocket of his jacket. "Will do." He glanced at his watch. "Jane, we still have a little time to eat and a couple tables have cleared. Are you still hungry?"

Jane nodded. "Go grab a table, I'll meet you there."

As Rafael went to procure a table for the coupe, Jane silently followed Nadine outside. She hung back, out of sight, as Nadine knelt in front of her partner who had unceremoniously dropped himself on a bench outside. "That was quite a show," Nadine said humorlessly. "I think you should head home for the day." Jane couldn't hear what Michael said, but as the response was a sigh and a "fine I'll go grab the car and pick you up. Stay put," she guessed that Michael had refused.

She snuck forward, though she needn't have worried about stealth. Michael was lying on his back with an arm thrown over his eyes and his bag on the ground essentially blind to everything around him. She had never seen the detective so unaware, and it worried her. So she took Nadine's spot, one hand supporting her belly and the other resting on Michael's chest. "Michael?"

He had obviously not heard or sensed her presence, because when she touched him he jumped up and nearly fell off the bench, and the sudden movement made him clutch his chest and moan.

Jane leapt back and covered her hands with her mouth. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you."

Michael's face was white with pain when she lowered herself onto the bench with him. "Are you okay? What can I do?"

Michael shook his head. "Ribs," he said shortly.

Jane had almost forgotten he had bruised them. No wonder he was trying so hard to stifle his sneezes. Actually sneezing must hurt like hell. And he wasn't doing his concussion any favors either.

The worry she was trying not to feel, telling herself she had no reason to feel them anymore, must have been evident on her face, because once Michael was able to let go of his ribs and Jane heard his labored breathing relax, he asked her "What's wrong? You look upset."

"I'm not upset. I just felt bad for making you feel like crap. And you left so quickly I couldn't see if you were okay."

"Gee, I'm sorry. Should I have _waited_ for you?"

Jane fought the urge to slap his shoulder, as she didn't want to inflict any more damage. "That's not what I meant. You just seemed really miserable."

Michael looked like he wanted to argue, to push her away, but instead he lowered his head onto his hands and told her not to worry. "I'm fine. The meds are just wearing off."

Jane cocked her head. "Meds?"

"Huh? Oh, ah, yeah, allergy medicine. Rogelio called me the other day to brag about that, ah, new perfume he found. I knew I'm allergic to lilies so I took some Allegra before I came over."

"Lilies?"

"Mm-Hmm."

"My perfume is rose."

"Yeah, rose. That's what I meant, sorry."

Jane stared at him a moment longer. Something was nagging on her, a memory she wanted to com e to the surface but one she couldn't locate in her mind. Something was off.

There was a honk, and they both looked up to see Nadine at the curb. Jane offered her hand to Michael, but he shook her off and pushed himself up off the bench. He moved awkwardly, she noticed, left arm stiff against his body as if acting like a crutch against movement.

Michael had walked around the car by the time Jane had remembered. The door was open and he was halfway in before she had managed to run over to the car.

"Wait!"

Michael looked up at her expectantly. In the car, Nadine was looking back and forth between the pair, quizzical.

"What is it?

"I'm not sorry. "

"What?"

"My perfume. I'm not sorry for making you sneeze."

Michael clearly had no idea how to process this announcement, so he nodded and said "Okay, then I don't forgive you."

Just as he was attempting again to sit down, Jane snapped his name aggressively. "Michael!"

He pushed himself up again, aggravated "What?! What do you want?"

Jane smiled "Watermelon."

"Excuse me?"

Jane shrugged innocently. "I want watermelon. I'm pregnant, I get cravings. And I want you to bring me some."

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

_Flashback_

Michael and Jane were sitting on his couch, a bowl of popcorn between them and the TV playing quietly in the background. Jane's shoes had been long kicked off into the corner, and Michael's arm had found a comfortable spot around Jane's sweater clad shoulder.

"Blue." Michael took a piece of popcorn and waved it at his new girlfriend. "You?"

Jane had to think for a minute. "Green maybe? No, yellow! Orange?" She paused for a minute. "Pink. Pink?" Michael raised an eyebrow. "What? I have a lot of favorite colors." At Michael's dreamy smile, she slapped his arm lightly. "Next. Favorite food?"

"Meat."

"Meat's not a food."

"Sure it is."

"No it isn't. Meat is like a whole category! A favorite food is something specific, like..."

"Grilled cheese?" Michael interrupted.

Jane's eyes sparkled. "Maybe." Michael shrugged, refusing to change his answer. "Fine, let's get into the serious stuff. Ever broken any bones?"

Michael nodded. "I broke my left ankle playing soccer in high school. Center forward. You?"

Jane shook her head proudly. "Never. My body was made super sturdy to last."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yup. Never broken a bone, never had braces or wore glasses, no surgeries, and I still have my tonsils and appendix. Built to last."

Michael held up one hand in mock defeat and tightened the other around her shoulders. "You're too perfect. I think I'm a little nervous."

Jane giggled. "Would it help if I tell you I'm allergic to watermelon?"

"Like the fruit? Seriously?"

"MmHmm. If I eat it I get all hive-y. What about you?"

"Allergies?" Michael shook his head. "I'm not allergic to anything, which...technically makes me superior physically."

"What? No!"

"You may be as in one piece as when you were born, but my body doesn't confuse anything for poison, so..."

Jane huffed. "Call it even?" She held out a hand.

Michael took the hand and shook it firmly. "Even."

But instead of releasing her hand, he used it to pull her over to him, upsetting the bowl of popcorn. But neither paid the spilled snack any attention, choosing to save it for something more tempting.

Each other.

 _And that bring us back to the present..._


	4. Chapter 4

Jane held her gaze as Michael's expression vacillated between annoyance and confusion a couple times. No matter how badly he wanted to slide back into the car and put miles between himself and the girl he loved being with the man he hated, the detective in him couldn't walk away from a puzzling statement that he _knew_ the answer to, on the tip of his tongue...

Jane smiled as realization took over his features. Nadine rolled down the window and stuck her head out. "What's going on?"

"It's not my perfume making Michael sneeze."

"Of course it isn't. Look at him; he's obviously sick as a dog. And he was just as sick at the station this morning, long before we saw you."

"Then what were you thinking letting him come to the hotel? You know he hates Raf, it was just going to stress him out more, especially if he wasn't feeling well."

"Let me?" Michael broke in quietly. He was ignored.

"I didn't let him do anything. He's a big boy. If he wants to track down a serial killer while he feels like crap, that's his call. Not yours."

"I'm fine," came the weak argument.

Nadine glanced at him, then back at Jane. With a sigh, her features softened. "Look, I care about Mike too. Let me get him back to the station, at least he'll be able to sit down and relax, drink some water. And I'll stop for cold medicine on the way. He'll be okay."

Jane turned her attention to Michael, who looked for all the world like he would absolutely _not_ be okay, but didn't want Jane or Nadine to know that. He had slid into the car beside Nadine and was sitting straight up, but exhaustion was written across his features. "You don't care about me _too_ ," he muttered. "You care about me, _period._ "

That stung, but she didn't acknowledge that she had heard. "Who do you have to take care of you? Billy?"

"I'm not crawling to my brother to come and nurse me over a cold," Michael replied. "I can take care of myself. I just need some more meds and to crash on the couch or something."

Jane took a deep breath, and let it out slowly through her nose. "Sounds good. Let's go."

Both detectives looked at her quizzically. "What?" Michael asked. It came out heavy, and congested "whad?" He sniffed heavily and tried again. "Whad?" It didn't help.

"Medicine and couch. That sounds like a plan. I'll drive you home." She needed to get him out of the car and into hers before she changed her mind. "Come on." When his only answer was to rub his nose with Rafael's handkerchief and stare at her blankly, she implored Nadine. "Tell him to get his butt in gear."

Nadine nodded Jane's way and, probably too tired to argue, Michael pulled himself out of the car with a grunt. "Stop making me stand back up," he grumbled, rubbing his chest with one hand.

"Last time," Jane promised. "I'm just going to install you on your couch and you can sit there until you're all better. Come on."

She led him to her car, sending a quick text to Rafael to let him know what was going on. After sending, she threw her phone in her bag. She didn't want to read Rafael's response.

"Are you sure?" Michael asked when they reached her car. Instead of answering, Jane just opened the passenger door before walking around and getting in the driver's seat. No, she wasn't sure. But she was doing it anyway. Michael settled himself into the seat, as well as he could, and the first thing he did after buckling his seatbelt was roll the window down all the way.

"What are you doing?"

" _Tschoo!"_ He sneezed loudly out the window.

"Bless you," Jane said, hesitantly.

Michael sniffed loudly. "Thank you. I'm trying not…germs… _Hetchoo! Hehh….Choo!_ "

" _One, two, three,"_ Jane counted to herself.

Michael gave her a small smile, the first she had seen form him in a while. "Hmm?

Oh. Maybe it hadn't been to herself. "Nothing. Just close your eyes until we get there. I remember the way."

He obediently closed his eyes, and was asleep within a minute.


	5. Chapter 5

Jane had been to the condo more times than she could count. She thought maybe Michael had moved something around, made a change when they broke up, like a divorcée chopping off her hair, but the blankets were right where she remembered them, folded neatly in the linen closet. She grabbed two.

"Why are your blankets in the closet?" she asked, throwing one over his shoulders, cape-style, and draping the other over his legs. She also poured him a glass of water, which she handed him along with a couple Tylenol.

"That's where they go. They've always been there." He pulled the edges of his blanket tighter and winced as the movement jarred his ribs.

Jane came over and yanked the edges together, tightening Michael in a cocoon. "I know that's where they go. When you're healthy. But your blankets are unused, your bed is made, there's no soup or anything in the fridge. Do you have any idea how to take care of yourself?"

Michael rubbed his nose on the blanket. ""Yes." His voice was hoarse and his tone held a hint of a whine. Curled up in his blanket, nose red and hair messy, he reminded Jane of the child she was soon to have.

"No," she replied, mimicking his whine. "Here, take this." She placed a tissue box on his lap and rested a hand on his forehead. "You're a little warm, but the Tylenol should kick in soon."

Michael closed his eyes and leaned into her hand, sighing contentedly. When he felt her hand pull away abruptly, he snapped himself back to reality. "I'm so sorry," his words jumbled together as he rushed to get them out. "Your hand just felt so cool, and I wasn't thinking, and.." He hastily pulled some tissues out of the box and sapped them over his face. " _Httsch! Hhhtxx! Httnxt! Hehh..."_

"Stop holding them back," Jane admonished, smacking his on the shoulder.

He raised watery eyes to hers, before nodding and cupping his hands more securely over his mouth and nose. " _Heechoo!_ " He groaned and blew his nose.

Jane patted his arm. "Better?" He shook his head, face pinched. Was it his head or his ribs? She couldn't ask. Time to move on.

She stood up, looked around, and clapped her hands. "Okay, so you've got tissues, blankets, and water. You took your meds. What else can I do?"

Michael shook his head again. "Nothing. Go shower and wash your hands or something. Get all my germs off."

"I will. I just want to make sure you'll be okay when I leave."

"I'll be fine. Don't worry about me."

Jane scoffed. "Don't worry? I have to worry. You passed the three sneeze limit within the first five minutes I saw you today."

Michael chuckled, though the laugh came out cracked and caused Jane to wince. "I forgot about that. Sorry, I would have-"

"Not sneezed?" Jane suggested. "It looked like you were trying anyway, without much luck."

"Hey! I can keep from sneezing if I want to."

 _-(Narrator Flashback)-_

 _It should be noted that Michael could not keep from sneezing he if he wanted to. And Jane knew this._

It was six in the morning, and Xiomara and Alba would be awake soon. Jane was attempting to sneak Michael out of the house to his car, conveniently parked three blocks away, before they found out he had spent the night. They hadn't had sex, of course, but that didn't mean they hadn't done _anything_ her grandmother would disapprove of.

However, sneaking him out was turning out to be much more difficult than sneaking him in at midnight had been. A gust of wind had blown her door shut with a slam, she had banged her toe on the kitchen table in the dark, causing everything on the table to shake loudly, and, unbenowst to her, something was about to start making Michael sneeze like crazy.

They were in the kitchen, when the sound of footsteps caused them both to freeze in their steps. "Shh," Jane warned unnecessarily.

They were standing close together, listening intently to their surroundings in an attempt to hear if anyone was coming. Jane hoped her grandmother had just gone to the bathroom and was on her way back to bed, or her mother wanted to plug in her phone across the room.

Suddenly, Michael pushed her away. Gently, of course, but she was still taken aback. "What?"

He stared at her, or through her, she wasn't sure, for a couple seconds before turning away and sneezing toward the ground. " _Etchoo!_ " By the way he blinked at her when he turned back, Jane surmised that he was as surprise as she was.

"What are you doing? What's wrong?" she whispered, slapping him on the arm. It was thrown over his face, keeping him from actually sneezing on his new girlfriend but not doing much else.

"I don't- _huchoo_ -know!" he whispered back. Tears shone in his eyes and, as one traced the lower rim and slid its way down his cheek, Jane reached out and brushed it away with one finger. " _Hehh…."_

"Don't!" Jane warned.

" _Hechoo!"_ Michael sniffed wetly and wiped his hand under his nose. "I can't help it! I don't know what's making me sneeze."

Congestion was starting to leak into his voice and Jane frowned. She reached a hand to his forehead.

Michael's brows knit together. "I'm fine, Jane. It's just sneezes."

"But it was _three_. That's the limit."

"I have no idea what that means!" Michael responded. His voice had risen a little, forgetting their stealth mission in his confusion, and Jane shushed him.

"I will explain later. Right now we have to-"

"Jane!" Both heads pivoted to the stairs at the sound of Alba's voice. "Estas bien? Oigo estornudos."

"I'm fine, Abuela," She called back. Glancing back at Michael, she noticed was pinching his nose again, breath hitching. He gave her a worried look. She grabbed his arm and started to pull him to the front door as quickly as she could walk quietly. "Go, go, go," she whispered, shoving him outside when they reached their destination. She made to kiss him goodbye, but ended up stepping back when he reared forward with another sneeze. "Michael…" she started worriedly.

Before she could finish her though, Michael kissed her on the cheek, gave her a wave, and pulled the door closed behind him. "Good bye, Jane," he mouthed through the window before jogging to his car.

Jane smiled, turning around with the intention to run back to her room and pretend to be just waking up.

Behind her, hands on hips and curious expressions, stood Xiomara and Alba.

"I could if I tried," Michael argued, but his voice didn't hold any confidence.

"Sure. Fine. Of course you could," Jane crooned sarcastically. "You've never been able to before, why not start now?"

In lieu of answering, Michael rested his head against the back of the couch. Jane's concern kicked up a notch and her stomach got tight. Was that it, or was it the fluttery butterfly feeling of her son kicking?

He rolled his head to the side to look at her. His expression was grim. "Thank you for the help, Jane." His voice was sincere, but there was a hint of something else behind the gratitude. Was it just a reaction to the awkwardness that had fallen between them she could hear? Was it embarrassment?

He turned his head away, and Jane understood. It was dismissal. As uncomfortable as she was in his house, alone with him, after what had transpired it had still been _her_ that had initiated. Not Michael. He must still be reeling from their discussion at the hospital. Their _understanding_ , as he had put it.

She nodded. "Of course. Feel better, okay?" When he said nothing in response, just continued to stare in the other direction, Jane walked out of the living room. She hesitated in the doorway, gave her ex-fiancée one last glance, and let herself out.

Michael, resolutely not watching her leave, heaved a sigh. This was Jane walking out of his life. This was what she wanted. And he would make it as easy for her as he could, because as angry as he was at the situation, he still loved her and wanted to make everything easier.

"Good bye, Jane."

end


End file.
